


Bits, Bobs, Odds and Sods: The Eldest Brothers Weasley in their Natural Habitat

by helluvalot, sheafrotherdon



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-07-07
Updated: 2006-07-07
Packaged: 2017-10-11 23:28:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/118335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helluvalot/pseuds/helluvalot, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheafrotherdon/pseuds/sheafrotherdon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snapshots of brotherly mayhem from 1979 to 1997.  (Spelling mistakes intentional).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bits, Bobs, Odds and Sods: The Eldest Brothers Weasley in their Natural Habitat

My Best Friend  
By Billy Weasley, Mrs Snipplethorn's Class, Ottery St. Catchpole Infant and Junior School, 1979.

My best friend is my brother Charlie. Charlie is six but he's fast and strong and I have other brothers but they are littler and they don't like dragons like Charlie does.

Charlie is very smart and likes porridge for breakfast and sometimes he can burp tunes and he wears orange socks. He's shorter than me and I have very long arms but he makes up for things by jumping a lot, especially on the sofa. Mum calls him CHARLES GIDEON all loud when he does that and we laugh until we make snot go all over because that's when you know something's really funny, when there are bogies on your brother's trainers.

Charlie is named after a King of England and so am I, only not the same one. My King could beat up Charlie's King in a fight. People have written books that say so and one day I will read them _all_ because then I will be even more right.

Sometimes when he's bored Charlie sets things on fire, but not always 'cause fire is for dragons says Dad. Charlie has a picture of a dragon on his wall and sometimes it roars and Charlie talks back to it but I don't tell or interrupt.

Charlie can hold his breath underwater for a really long time and he steals jam tarts better'n anyone. When he grows up Charlie's going to be a dragon tamer, and if he can't do that he'll write songs and wear tight trousers like Uncle Fabian and play the guitar and people will fall over.

I like my brother Charlie bestest of anyone, and sometimes I let him play with my Auror figures and that's alright 'cause he's my brother and he smells like chickens and mum says she doesn't know what to do with the two of us and we'll make her go grey and what did she do to deserve hellions like us and that just makes us laugh until our bellies hurt really bad.

*****

My Summer Holiday  
by Charles Gideon Weasley, age 6 and 3 quarters.

On my summer holiday me and my older brother Bill got to go to London to say with my Uncle Fabian and my Uncle Gideon. They are twins. They are really great. We got to go stay with Uncle Fabian and Uncle Gideon because Mum said that if she had to have us in the house all summer long, she would go spare and then Da said that they should just sell me and Bill into hard labour and then Billy said he would cost more money and then I said I would cost the mostest. Uncle Gideon took us to the lake in the country and he said he would teach us to swim but me and Billy already knew how! And we said, "Uncle Gideon, we learned swimming ages ago!" And then Uncle Gideon said that he would teach us something else then and the next day he bought us bows and arrows and me and my older brother Bill learned the fine sport of archery. The wires really hurt my fingers and I was very bored, but Billy broke a window and that was so funny! Uncle Fabian said we were the most insane boys he ever knew and then we got ice cream! Chocolate is my favourite flavour.

The End.

*****

Hogwarts, September 4th, 1982

Snot-head,

I'm writing this at breakfast so if there's a bit of jam on the letter just lick it off yeah?

Everything's been mental since I got here. I tripped over someone's bag on the train and got three miniature Nifflers up m'nose and they squeaked something awful but I got 'em back out again alright. And then we got here and we had to go in boats 'cross the lake and there's a bloody SQUID down there A GIANT SQUID HOW COOL IS THAT and then we went up underneath the castle which is right bloody huge and then into the Hall and there were four hundred thousand other kids and I didn't know any of them but that's all right 'cause they'll know me soon enough with this hair.

We had to get sorted into Houses by this manky hat which was really bloody cool actually 'cause it talked to you inside your head and that felt a bit weird but it worked out okay since I got put in Gryffindor like mum and dad were.

They have five types of jam at breakfast here. FIVE.

My bedroom's in Gryffindor Tower and there's five of us share so it's a lot like home 'cept for how you're not there. I keep rolling over to tell you something and you're at the Burrow and not the next bed over and that takes a bit of getting used to. But I put your Action Auror figure on the bedside table and that makes everything a bit less weird and a bit less like I might explode if I think about home too much which I don't because that'd make me a girl I reckon.

I wonder what it'd look like if I 'sploded. I mean if you think about it that'd be bloody cool to see if it weren't your own guts everywhere.

So then after the sorting and the feast and first night in the dorms and shit we had classes. Professor McGonagall's in charge of Gryffindor and Transfiguration and she gives me the willies. But BLOODY HELL CHARLIE we get to use magic and it's hard making it do what its supposed to rather than just waving your wand and seeing what happens but it's bloody brilliant and I think I might like Charms best but it's only been two days so I don't know for sure but any class where I can blow stuff up is brilliant.

Only I don't like Potions. Or History of Magic.

What're you up to? Did mum get that stain out of the kitchen table after all or did she kneecap you like she promised?

Do you reckon you can come visit soon, like for a Quidditch match or something like that?

UP CLAN WEASLEY!  
Billy

*****

The Burrow, September 5th, 1982

BILL

I KNEW YOU STOLE MY AUROR FIGURINE! I knew it and I told Mum but she reckons I lost it and she said that I need to learn to take care of my toys or else I won't get to have them in the first place and then she got mad about the table again and yelled at me and said that this was why we can't have nice things.

I wish that you could come home right now because now that you're gone I have to gnome the garden all by myself because Percy is too delicate. I tried to wrestle with him yesterday and he fell down the stairs BUT ONLY ONE FLOOR and he really bruises easily. It's kind of gross and cool. But now I'm in trouble again.

I want to learn charms! I asked Da about this McGonagall person and he said to tell you that she was scary when he went to Hogwarts! That means that you and Da had the same teacher! She must be so old! At least seven hundred.

Have you seen any cool animals? I caught a water lizard in the pond and I put it in the cage with my frogs and then it ate my frogs! And then it died! I was really bent but Da said we could get a dog so long as I walked it everyday and cleaned up the poo and I said sure! I wouldn't mind cleaning up poo if it meant I could have a dog.

Also Mum says that if I help with chores and do my lessons and be good in polite company then she'd take me to a Quidditch game at your school! Wouldn't that be SAVAGE?

My Kindest Regards,  
Charlie Weasley

*****

OWL POST to THE BURROW. Sent by Charlie Weasley, December 1, 1984

Dear Da and Mum,

Thank you for the box of brownies. They were really grand and me and Billy spoiled our supper two nights in a row. All the lads are jealous that we have such a savage mum who cooks us deserts and sends them to us. School is going grand but we are excited for the Christmas holiday. Next term Dumbledor said I could be in Billy's care of magical creatures class because I'm so far ahead of my class and I go to Billy's class anyway so I might as well get credit.

Here is my Christmas lists. I have decided to number the items in the _order of importance_. I have saved up five galleons and I think I know what I'm going to get everyone for Christmas. Please tell my brothers hello and kiss Ginny for me. I saw the photos you sent Billy and she is so big! I thought that story about how she sat on Ron was really funny.

Love  
Charlie

Charlie Weasley's Christmas List 1984

1\. New wand. Mine is broken again. I'M SORRY!  
2\. One year's subscription to Dragon Weekly.  
3\. New boots with a better sticking water resistance spell.  
4\. Fourteen month Peruvian Snaptail calendar.  
5\. Dung bombs (I had to try, Mum!)

*****

OWL POST to THE BURROW. Sent by Bill Weasley, December 1, 1984

Dear Parentals -

Greetings from the frigid bloody north. Here's what I think - I think the toe-rags esteemed staff at this here institution should teach us _warming charms_ the moment we get off those sodding boats, first year. Screw sorting! Screw the feast! I haven't felt my toes in fourteen days and that's even after Nigel's pet Kneazle tried to chew on 'em, Tuesday last.

I might die of no toes, and then how would you feel, berating me for blowing up Professor Flitwick's best hat, eh? Bad, I reckon. Best you don't have that on your conscience.

I've enclosed my Christmas list, but unlike Charlie, who's a bit touched in the head, there's no particular order. Can we go shopping at Diagon when we get back? I need to find remote-controlled farting pants to give to Charlie. And maybe some liquorice.

Love  
Bill

Bill's Best List Ever

Fourteen pairs double-insulated socks. (Actually make that a whole month's worth).  
Edgar Boffin's _Egyptian Curses: Mummies, Manticores, and Muggle Messes_  
Six Large Jars of Madam Pinshanks Best Magical Welding Powder  
Free weights, with accompanying book of charms  
My ear pierced (Mummmm, come on Mum! It'd be brilliant!)

*****

June 1987: Defence Against the Dark Arts OWL examination. Student: William A. Weasley

 **Question Four: Please describe the origins of the _Corporesito_ curse, and discuss those measures found most effective in its nullification. (sixty points)**

Corporesito – or the Flesh Eating Curse – arguably originated in the lower Baltics in the fourth century A.D.

Magical testing has shown that the curse's colour – a virulent (i.e. right bloody ugly) purple – is made up of several strains of eastern European base magic, drawn in particular from the natural sources in the foothills of the Yaila Mountains. (Good beer, thereabouts. So I hear. Ahem). Recent studies by magigeneticists and anthropologists at the Wizarding University of Bulgaria suggest that the original curse proved ineffective, creating the sensation of being pleasantly nibbled on by an amorous suitor (ey-up!) rather than being slowly dissolved in acid as the present curse allows. (You just know some poor bugger was using it for other purposes right when it got upgraded and ended up with his tackle chomped. Poor, poor bastard). Fine tuning of the curse seems to have taken place in Prague in the late eleventh century, and theorists believe it is this modification that causes the curse to flare silver when cast on full moon nights. (I reckon I've heard a song about that. "When the spell hits your eye on a bright full moon night, it's . . . " Well. Bloody tragic really).

Corporesito is most commonly found in the ward structures surrounding stone buildings (like Buckingham Palace). A simple Protego is usually enough to defend against the curse, although an individual who is infected can cast a modified Adversorium to halt the progress of the curse until medical attention can be sought.

(I once saw a bloke get hit by Corporesito right in the arse! Excellent bloody thing! Luckily, McDub set an Adversorium on it pronto. Mind you, he does go by the name of One-Cheek Jimmy now . . . )

Marked: 54/60

Excellent understanding of the magical underpinnings of this contemporary affliction, but rather too many asides for this examiner's taste. Four points deducted for the mention of "tackle." Two for excessive use of "bloody" throughout.

*****

Charlie Weasley  
Kettleburn  
CoMC, Year Six  
22 March, 1990

 _  
**Fic: Bits, Bobs, Odds and Sods: The Eldest Brothers Weasley in their Natural Habitat**   
_

The Magestic Antipodean Opaleye: A Breif Overview of Fact  
An Extra Credit Essay By Charlie Weasley  


Imagine, if you will, the rolling, often green, sometimes rocky terrain of the north east coast of the South Island of New Zealand, a tiny island country south of Australia. (Quite the poetical beginning, Professor, I think you'll agree!) It's one of the most magical places known to wizarding kind, with more magic per square kilometre than Britain, China and even Ireland. The magical creatures indigenous to such a place obviously range from the very small (an example being the redbeeded snit, a ghastly abomination that makes those suseptible to its sting break out in oozing hives that don't go away for days and cause all those around you EVEN WITH THEIR BEST OF INTENTIONS take the mickey.) and the very large (the Enragio Serpent lurks within the Pacific, sometimes coming as close at six metres from the shore, I saw it meself! Snappish fellow. Put me right off surfing.). The most impressive of these creatures is the Antipodean Opaleye, known most commonly as simply, the Opaleye.

The word Antipodean comes from the Latin root _anti_ , meaning "against" or "opposite," and the word _podean_ , an Anglicised version of the Irish Gaelic word _poteen_ which means "a small pot." From this we can deduce that the Opaleye is not a small pot. The word Opaleye is fairly obvious, and is named for the be-jewelled appearance of Antipodean's corneas. In fact ancient wizards, because they were a bit mental, once thought the eyes of an Opaleye to be hypnotic and would shield their gaze from the creatures whenever they came in contact. This just made it easier for the Opaleyes to catch and eat the ancients, and so wizards have now learned to look where they're running.

Opaleye's have been found on the South Island since the dawn of magic, which was I reckon billions of years ago, though I can't be sure since I've dropped History of Magic. It is the opinion of this student that they are the coolest, most savage of all dragon breeds. Their fire is blue as opposed to the standard yellowish red, and water resistant - only a finely execute _extingato_ will smoother the flames. Their talons call to mind the claws of a feline in that they retract into the dragon's front and back feet while not in use. Opaleye's do not hibernate, and can be seen at all times of the year, scouring the hillsides for sheep, which makes up the main part of their diet. Opaleyes travel in packs (called leagues) and a mother will care for her kits until they are one year old, at which point the male kits most go and find their own league or challenge the alpha bull for a place in their mother's league. (Incidentally, a fight between two bull Opaleyes is bloody spectacular. I saw one meself last summer when I went to summer junior training at the Kiwi Dragon Training Facility in Wellington. I tried to procure a bull of my own to take back to England with me, but my mum got wind and sent seven howlers. Bloody embarassing.)

The blood, bones, heart, liver, and scales (hide) of the Opaleye can all be used in various magical remedies, the most notorious being Horatio's Salve which uses powdered Opaleye bones in a paste to create a salve that once spread upon the chest can revive a person left comatose by any number of hexes or jinx. (I picked a bottle up for Mum, 'cause one never knows with my brothers.)

Unfortunately, the life of the magestic Opaleye is under threat due to excessive poaching and poor breeding conditions, as well as deminishing habitat due to human interference. It's a travisty and anyone who poaches a dragon to make stupid bloody boots (or anyone who _buys_ said stupid bloody boots, I'm looking at you William Arthur Weasley!) should be publicly flogged and hexed so their privates come out their ears.

Marked: Pass

I'd have most sincerely liked to have given you full marks, Mr Weasley, but your poor spelling and repeated use of the word 'bloody' forced me to deduct points. In the future, please use a dictionary and check your essays for language. - L. Kettleburn

*****

December 17, 1996

Chaz –

You great fucking tit – I just heard you're not coming home for Christmas. What the bloody hell's that about? You're leaving me with the whole clan, Harry too, and a bloody Frenchwoman in the mix? This may be the single greatest practical joke you've ever played on my sorry, freckled arse, and you're not even trying are you?

I miss you, mate. London's . . . shite. I fucking hate being stuck behind a desk, no matter how important it is that I'm there. I've been bothering Remus until he lets me go on a mission or two (mission – ha! Can you fucking believe we call 'em missions? I feel so clandestine. Good thing I wear a spot of black already, I reckon, or I'd have to stock up just to look the part). Last week we were up Perth-ward – nice bit of stunning and a couple of quick questions and we were still home in time for a pint.

(Save your breath, little brother, I know it's not always that way. I've still got that picture of Uncle Gideon and Fabian in my back pocket, same as you. I'll not forget).

Fleur's grand, as usual. She's not getting on with Mum too well – or rather Mum's not getting on with her. I know I'm Mum's first and all, but this is a mite ridiculous. Course it might be a prejudice against the French rather than a prejudice against anyone who tries to nick her eldest out from under her nose – likely she's carrying a Prewett grudge that goes back to bloody Agincourt. Still, I can't be mad at her – she keeps baking apple crisp. No mercy, our mum, breaking out the bloody cinnamon at eight in a morning. She fights dirty.

Course Fleur has a trick or four up her sleeve. (Sleeve. _Right_ ).

You doin' alright over there? You need anything? Six pack of Kilkenny? New blankets? Galleons to bribe the cook down the mess? (I haven't forgotten that shite she called "sausages." Godric on a bloody Chimera, I've seen more sausage-like _tomatoes_ grow by accident out of Dad's compost heap).

Haven't heard about Wyatt for a while. How's his bum leg? He flying yet? Crisping up that excuse for a goatee you were willing into existence last time I saw you? I've got a pool going on with the other bastards about how soon he'll be up and away, you know – Fred and George reckon 1998, Ginny took 1999, and Percy ignored my owl because he's a wanker, as you well know. Ron's the optimist – he took summer 1997; puffed up in my face, he did, and said "Charlie'll get him flying, you bloody wait and see," as _I_ doubted the fact. I wrestled him to the ground and turned his hair bright pink so it all worked out.

I'd best be off. I'm getting the evil eye from yon boss, and I don't want to be picking a goblin hex out of my pants for the rest of the evening. WRITE ME.

Bill

*****

June 1997

Billy,

Well. Got yourself in a bit of mess, didn't ya? What was that pact we made when we were wee things? No running off and getting ourselves ripped to bloody pieces by fucking minging-faced, sadistic werewolves? Something to that effect, if I recall.

Greyback's a fucking dead man, I'll tell you what.

I'll be there when you wake up. And you _will_ wake up, if you've any bloody idea what's good for you, you bastard, understand? If I hear anything to the contrary, I'll wake you up me fucking self, you know I will.

 _Wake up_.

Charlie


End file.
